Few Chinese restaurants, before or since, have captured the magic of the Mandarin when it was located in Ghirardelli Square.

Not only did Cecilia Chiang, who's still going strong at 93, introduce many now-familiar dishes to the United States, but she also crafted elegant combinations and presentations in a dining room filled with top-quality Chinese art and expensive McGuire chairs.

It's easy to draw parallels between that groundbreaking restaurant and the newly opened Hakkasan on Kearny at Market. As at the Mandarin, diners ascend to the dining room, where they enter an elegant space that reportedly cost more than $7 million. It's a style of dining that has been missing - and needed - since Chiang sold the Mandarin more than 20 years ago.

The Mandarin was an original, with a second branch in Beverly Hills; Hakkasan San Francisco is part of an international chain with U.S. outposts in Miami, New York and, later this year, Las Vegas. Ho Chee Boon, who previously worked at the Hakkasan in Mumbai, is in charge of the kitchen.

Whether locals, who are traditionally pretty tough on outsiders, will embrace the place in the long run is yet to be determined, but for now it's a coveted reservation. People don't seem to flinch at paying $38 for such items as Chiu Chow style halibut and $8 for an individual serving of hot and sour soup, which encourages comparisons to neighborhood restaurants that charge a quarter of the price. At Hakkasan diners are clearly paying for much more than the food, which ultimately takes a supporting role to the atmosphere and service.

At the entrance, which can seem intimidating and slightly pretentious, diners walk into what looks like a small office lobby with two hosts behind the reception desk, then ascend by elevator. The doors open to a rush of incense so intense it practically sucks the oxygen out of the marble foyer accented with a riot of colorful orchids and a picture window overlooking Market Street.

A large, 25-seat bar shaped like the front of a ship is awash in blue lights and filled with diners and drinkers. Even those with reservations may be shuffled off to the lounge to wait for a table in either of the two dining rooms flanking the bar.

One room features large windows that overlook Geary Street and white leather banquettes embroidered with a large dragon. Fine wood, pottery and luxurious surfaces add a feeling of privilege and elegance. The other dining room overlooks Market and Third streets and is awash in red.

The owners were smart to hire staff from places like Michael Mina and the Ritz-Carlton who know how to take care of the 1 percent. However, if you're deemed part of the 99 percent, it might be a different story.

Uneven service

Once seated, service is obsequious in an almost Downton Abbey sort of way, including hot towels and effusive greetings. If you want ice with your water, they will bring individual buckets.

Yet after the initial greeting, the experience can fray a bit. On one visit, the waiter offered to dish up the plates, but on other visits we weren't asked. We continually had to ask for serving utensils, which should come naturally to a place where dishes are meant to be shared. At times, we were ignored as the waiter visited other tables.

The leather-bound menu has more than 70 dishes, but it is helpfully broken down into categories. Anyone who has heard stories about the outrageous prices at New York's Hakkasan will think the San Francisco branch is a bargain; I suspect that as the restaurant settles in, prices will rise, but for now they don't seem out of line in relation to the surroundings. Even gruel probably would taste good in this spectacularly designed 150-seat restaurant, which feels as if it could be in Las Vegas.

Diverse menu

The menu offers a smattering of specialties from all over China. The food is generally fine, but some dishes aren't any better than you would get at a neighborhood dive, starting with that hot and sour soup ($8). More interesting is the lighter, silkier halibut broth ($12), subtly accented with angelica root, or the pumpkin soup ($10) with crabmeat and scallops.

Some dishes, such as the Hakka noodles ($12) with mushrooms and Chinese chives, are drowned in a slick of oil that recalls Panda Express. Yet that chain wouldn't offer something as elevated as braised cuttlefish ($18) in a warmly spiced sauce with slivers of okra and crisp cross-cut potato chips. One of my favorite dishes over three visits was prawns ($21) with lily buds and almonds in a green Thai curry-like sauce.

On the other hand, the chicken in the Sanpei clay pot with basil ($18) was tough, the sauce a tad cloying. The stir-fried black pepper beef with Merlot ($28) needed a few bright notes to make it interesting, though the presentation was good, the small portion tumbling out of a crisp noodle basket. I tried to eat the noodles and learned they were only for show; they were hard as glass and once softened as chewy as pieces of straw.

In the "small eats" section, pan-seared Shanghai dumplings ($10) looked pretty, lined up precisely on the plate, but the thick dough dominated the filling. One of the best dishes in this category - and, at $28, the most expensive - is the duck salad, a symphonic blend of sweet and tangy, with bits of crisp fried duck playing off pomegranates, grapefruit, orange, shallots, pine nuts and small peppery greens. The vegetarian dim sum platter ($18) is also a highlight.

Vegetable dishes

I learned over three visits that the tofu and the vegetable dishes generally are the most satisfying, whether it's the stir-fried mushroom lettuce wraps ($9) with pistachio and pine nuts, surrounded by small lettuce leaves; a clay pot of tofu, eggplant and mushrooms in a chile black bean sauce ($12); or a pleasantly chewy stir-fried vegetarian chicken ($12) in a black pepper sauce that flavored the tofu and balanced the sweetness in the sugar snap peas. Dishes like asparagus with lotus root and lily buds ($12) send a message that the emphasis here isn't on local and seasonal, but the flavors are still good.

On my last visit I ordered streamed red snapper ($25) only to be told the steamer was broken so the fish wasn't available. How can a Chinese restaurant survive without a steamer?

Desserts take on a Western feel, with the exception of the fruit platter ($18) with dragon fruit, rambutan and melons that all tasted under-ripe and out of season.

One of the best desserts was the chocolate orange ball ($10), where the waiter pours on warm chocolate that melts the top and reveals a mousse inside; it's accented with blood orange and gianduja ice cream.

I also appreciated the coconut tapioca pudding ($10) with surprise bursts of finger lime and chunks of caramelized pineapple, presented in a glass covered with a dehydrated disk of pineapple.

It brings the meal around to a playful note, but clearly the surroundings are the star.

Prices are based on main courses. When entrees fall between these categories, the prices of appetizers help determine the dollar ratings. Chronicle critics make every attempt to remain anonymous. All meals are paid for by The Chronicle. Star ratings are based on a minimum of three visits. Ratings are updated continually based on at least one revisit.